A Shade of Vampire 78: An Origin of Vampires

by Forrest, Bella

  “They sell their blood,” Corbin said. “We never go hungry, and neither do they. Our society thrives because of this relationship. If you do things differently in your world, then good for you. I hope you haven’t come here to judge us for how we run our kingdom.”

  “No, we wouldn’t dare,” Derek intervened, trying to smile. “We’re simply impressed by what you’ve accomplished. We didn’t think it was possible.”

  “It wasn’t easy,” Petra replied. “Like I said, they were reluctant at first. Once Rimia and Nalore were conquered, however, their options became limited. As the years went by, they got used to it. They learned to accept it as part of how things are and will be for as long as the Aeternae exist. And we plan to make that an eternity.”

  “Mind if I ask how this entire process works? Do you feed on living people, or do they sell you certain quantities of their blood?” I asked, trying to get a better picture before suggesting some GASP policing options to Derek—after we got all the original source of the day-walking protein that we needed, of course.

  “It is collected weekly from harvesting centers,” Zoltan said. “The people come in, give their blood, and are paid accordingly. It’s a simple process, really. A cultural norm.”

  “And the blood is then shipped to Visio from Nalore and Rimia, right?” Tristan replied, following my lead.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I noticed a couple of skinny Rimian females—much thinner than others I’d seen before. They wore elegant dresses, quite different from their peers. I’d already noted that the Rimians and the Naloreans did not seem as wealthy as the Aeternae, but these two girls seemed to contradict my observation. Their dresses were beautiful, made from smooth silks and adorned with gemstone embroideries—a little over the top, if I were to be honest, as if they were trying to compensate for other things they were missing. I’d seen this before in what my brother and I had called “the nouveau riche” across different civilizations. People from poor backgrounds who’d stumbled upon a fortune, eager to blare their opulence in public.

  There was something odd about these two girls, though. They were worryingly thin, their skin paler than most Rimians we’d spotted so far, with dark rings around their eyes and shaky hands. There wasn’t enough expensive silk and brocade to cover an ailing body, unfortunately.

  “Once a week, our ships come in from Rimia and Nalore with gallons of blood, carefully kept on ice until it’s consumed,” Petra said.

  The Rimian girls wore scarves that covered their necks. A thought crossed my mind as I shifted my focus back to the high priestess. “You never feed on live people?”

  She didn’t answer right away. I had a feeling she was trying to choose her words carefully, having already noticed Sofia’s aversion to drinking blood from our humans.

  “We do not seek to harm our food source,” Petra finally said. “Of course, some Rimians and Naloreans might want to increase their fortunes and may decide to offer their blood in a more direct way to wealthy Aeternae. Our kingdom does not condone such a practice, but it’s rather difficult to police.”

  I nodded slowly, catching the drift. Therefore, the two Rimian girls I’d spotted were likely displaying signs of anemia, a weakness that came from having too much of their blood drained. Given that the system the Aeternae had put in place was touted as being well-regulated, I had to assume that they wouldn’t have allowed anyone to weaken themselves to such a point.

  These girls had recently gotten rich, likely from generous Aeternae who’d nearly drained them of their blood—hence the scarves around their necks. The carotid would’ve been the favorite drinking spot of vampires. Surely, the Aeternae would feel the same.

  I felt a little sad for the girls, but if that had been their decision, it wasn’t my place to judge. “I suppose it’s a social structure they’ve all adhered to,” I said. “It might have been uncomfortable for the earlier generations, but the current ones seem to have adjusted quite well. Assuming, of course, that the Rimians and the Naloreans have a shorter lifespan than the Aeternae.”

  “You are correct again,” Petra replied, genuinely impressed. “Your mind is brilliant, young lady. I can see why Derek wanted you to come along on this journey.”

  “Yeah, you ask all the right questions,” Kalon added, his gaze still glued to me.

  I’d yet to get used to his presence, thus pulling double duty between asking “the right questions” and keeping my composure in front of him. For a moment, I thought about what my parents would’ve said, had they been here for this. Or Grandma Anna. Grandpa Kyle…

  “Shall we continue with our walk?” Zoltan interrupted my train of thought.

  Derek nodded. “By all means, lead the way.”

  We left the town square and made our way up a broad alley littered with flowerpots and small shops with stained-glass windows, selling pretty much everything—from fabrics, buttons, and fashion accessories, to various foods and preserves, fragrances, home décor objects, and building supplies.

  As the sun went down, however, most of these shops closed their business, the shopkeepers locking the windows and pulling the heavy wooden shutters closed. By the time we reached the end of this alley and looked back, it was almost empty, the people already having gone to their homes to rest for the day. There was something sweet about the routine itself, another piece to add to the puzzle I was building in my head.

  Petra did most of the talking again, telling us about local cuisine and habits, along with the Aeternae’s penchant for adding spices to their blood—yet another thing we had in common with their species, as did the Maras, for that matter. It was becoming increasingly clear that the Aeternae were basically day-walking vampires, and that it was their blood we’d need in order to bring all the vampires up to Derek’s physical level.

  “They’re weirdly a lot like us,” Tristan said, keeping his voice down. Kalon had gone ahead, talking to Zoltan as he led our small group toward the city center. Out here, buildings became taller, well-mannered giants with sculpted façades and French-style windows, neat little balconies loaded with wrought-iron chairs and bursts of red and orange flowers, and supple porte-cocheres. For a moment, I thought we’d gotten ourselves lost in nineteenth century London. It was peculiar how a species so much like ours could follow such a familiar artistic evolution as well.

  “I think we’re missing important chunks of the story, though,” I replied. “We’re barely scratching the surface at this point.”

  “Oh, that’s for sure. But it’s okay. I think we’re off to a good start. Don’t you?” he asked me, and I needed a moment to think about my answer. I wanted to say yes, but it didn’t feel entirely genuine. There was something about these Aeternae people that bothered me, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  Maybe my instinct was glitchy. Then again, as far as Kalon Visentis was concerned, I had every reason to be worried. He was too good-looking and overconfident. That was either the mark of a sociopath or a reckless fool likely to get himself killed. You do have a predilection for bad boys, Esme.

  “You could say that, sure,” I mumbled, then decided to ask a tougher question, seeing how open Petra had been until now. There had to be a limit here, and I wanted to figure it out, so my brother and I could later determine how to get past it. “High Priestess, if you don’t mind me asking, what is the average lifespan of an Aeternae?”

  Kalon’s head snapped around, almost breaking his neck as he looked back at me. Petra, on the other hand, was remarkably unfazed. “That is a difficult question, mainly because it varies so much. I wouldn’t be able to give you an average, I’m afraid. Some of us live to be a thousand, a hundred thousand, a million years old. A few have been around for much, much longer than that.”

  “Would we be able to meet one of them?” Tristan replied.

  “No. The seniors are kept safe, away from the big cities. They prefer peace and tranquility, having their own homes in the heart of nature,” Zoltan said firmly.

  “So h
ow does an Aeternae die, usually?” I asked. “I get the beheading and burning part, but how do those come to happen? Your society strikes me as peaceful. Maybe I’m wrong?”

  “There’s the usual unfortunate accident,” Kalon replied dryly.

  “How does one go about getting beheaded accidentally?” I shot back.

  “Then there are murders,” Kalon continued, completely ignoring me. “The Aeternae are not saints. Many of those who commit terrible crimes are executed. And there are plenty of people who simply choose to end their lives, having lost the will to keep going.”

  “How does that happen?” Tristan asked.

  Petra sighed deeply, appearing somewhat saddened by this fact. “With all the time we’re given, some of us simply have enough. Living can be tiresome, especially past five hundred thousand years. We don’t age past a certain point, like I’ve said. But, on the inside, we can experience weariness... Our seniors may not have gray hair and wrinkles, but they can still be exhausted. But given how treasured they are to us, we keep them in havens so that they never feel the need to end it all. Ever.”

  “So, basically, you, high priestess, along with the chief councilor, and the master commander are not considerably older than, say, most of the Aeternae we’ve seen so far, even though you look… older? I apologize if I’m causing offense, you all look fantastic, but I’m just trying to understand the age versus aging aspect here,” I said.

  “Don’t let my hair fool you. I’m barely past twenty thousand, darling,” Petra replied and smiled as she looked at Corbin and Zoltan. “You’re right about these two, though. Old bags of bones already.”

  “The high priestess is being amusing, of course,” Zoltan retorted. “I’m a little over two hundred thousand years, and the master commander here has recently celebrated his millionth year. Truth be told, there are very few Aeternae who appear older than forty. We call them late bloomers.”

  “The Master Commander doesn’t look a day over thirty thousand, if you ask me,” Kalon muttered, prompting his mother to chuckle softly.

  “Immortality isn’t only about looking like you’re twenty or thirty or forty forever,” Petra said as we walked up a boulevard lined by white marble villas with three and four levels. Carriages were drawn both ways by animals that resembled our horses—though significantly taller and more muscular, their coats charcoal black or ivory white. They were beautiful beasts, nonetheless, and I was already looking forward to riding one, if given the chance. Their hooves clicked loudly across the smooth cobblestone. “Immortality is about living forever, at ease with oneself. That is our philosophy, and it has kept us above the Naloreans and the Rimians for a very long time.”

  Kalon moved back to walk with Tristan and me. “What matters is what we do with our immortality, not our appearance or the age at which we stop changing, physically speaking. That’s what my mother is trying to say.”

  I frowned. “Even so, it still doesn’t explain such a large population. How many of you are there?”

  “On Visio? About four to five billion Aeternae,” Kalon replied.

  “Whoa… Okay, so even with the occasional so-called accident, the murders, the self-ending few, and the executions… it still doesn’t add up,” I said. “What is your birth rate?”

  “Scarcer than that of the Rimians and the Naloreans,” Petra said darkly. This was a touchy subject, given the crisp tone of voice, sharper than her usual. “I suppose the tournaments and the fights account for a high percentage of deaths among the Aeternae.”

  “The what now?” Nethissis blurted.

  Behind me, she and Amal had kept quiet for most of the journey, though I couldn’t exactly blame them. While Derek, Tristan, and I had supported most of the conversation, Amal and Nethissis had been taking mental notes of their own. We were bound to compare our findings once we were on our own again. I, for one, was dying to hear their impressions. Chances were they’d seen or noticed things we hadn’t.

  Kalon smiled. “The tournaments and prize fights. Not all the Aeternae value life the same way you would,” he said. “We have different perceptions of it. The fights are a constant adrenaline rush. The thought of getting killed in one of these events make many Aeternae enjoy their existence more.”

  “That’s dark… and twisted,” I said. “Life is a precious gift, no matter how long it is.”

  “When you’ve seen all of Rimia, Nalore, and Visio, when you’ve tasted and tried everything… when there’s nothing left for you to experience, what will you do?” Kalon asked, moving closer to me. I didn’t have an answer for him. “You’ll stare death in the face and welcome the dance, that’s what you’ll do.”

  “Let us be honest here, Kalon. Many of the fighters are mere thrill-seekers. Few ever find the courage to fight through to the finals,” Corbin replied.

  “The finals are always to the death,” Kalon explained, likely noticing my darkened gaze. “Up to that point, one of the fighters can still yield if he or she isn’t willing to risk getting killed for the grand prize.”

  I had to admit, it was troubling. And, as the palace rose before us, a majestic complex of architectural prowess, I wondered… what joy of living did the Lord and Lady Supreme of the Aeternae condone, if their people were so willing to walk straight into the arms of a Reaper for such trivial pursuits?

  No matter how I looked at this picture, something was still missing. The birth rate, as low as it could’ve been, and the death rate, wonky accidents included, did not account for what I was seeing around us, for the five billion Aeternae that lived on Visio. The puzzle was enormous and incredibly fascinating, like nothing I’d ever seen before. It had a tint of danger and excitement. It had secrets and strange customs and many wondrous things.

  But it also had one hell of a gaping hole, smack in the middle of it. A missing piece, which I knew would prevent me from resting until I found it.

  Sofia

  The Lord and Lady Supreme’s palace was truly a sight to behold. A giant monument to eternal grandeur, made entirely from perfectly polished blocks of black marble, it captured the afternoon’s gleam in its pointed towers, of which there were six—four faced north, south, east, and west, while the other two rose in the middle of this astonishing complex, identical in size and height as they overlooked the entire city.

  Five-hundred-yard-wide stairs led up to the sumptuous entrance, guarded by dozens of columns around which sculpted dragon-like beasts came down, each looking at us, immortalized in their desire to crunch on anyone who dared threaten the ruling crown of Visio. I balked at the statues for a while, taking in their exquisitely detailed work, down to the very last scale and spike. Goosebumps erupted over my arms, as I wondered what had inspired the artists to erect such creatures here, at the palace doors.

  More golden guards poured out of the palace and settled down the steps, forming a passageway for us to follow, much like the red flares had done for us in the sky. Red blossoms burst in marble vases behind them, and a garden—a giant garden—hugged the palace from behind, its flowers and green shrubs spilling out on both sides of the building, almost threatening to keep growing until they reached the wide-open space at the front.

  I was speechless. I’d never felt so intimidated by a construction before. This had been made specifically to impress and frighten those who beheld it. We stopped at the bottom of the stairs, with Corbin, Zoltan, Petra, and Kalon moving in front of us. Behind, the accompanying golden guards had lined up. For a moment, I wondered if they would let me leave, should I suddenly change my mind for whatever reason. Their expressions told me they wouldn’t.

  Farther back, framing the enormous plaza over which the palace reigned, I could see the silver guards mingling with the people, many of whom had followed us through the city. We hadn’t even heard or seen them until now, which made me realize how stealthy the Aeternae could be.

  “We’re about to meet the rulers of this world,” Derek said to me. “This is our chance to make a proper introduction.”
r />   I nodded once. “I’m with you all the way, honey.”

  Tristan and Esme’s faces were still covered, but I could see the wariness in their green eyes. Nethissis stayed calm, and so did Amane. We’d done right by bringing over a small team. Not having to rely on our dragons and sentries made everything more challenging, but it also gave us the opportunity to truly engage with these people. In this instance, there was no room for failure. No way we’d abandon our objective.

  “The Lord and Lady Supreme are waiting for us in the throne room,” Zoltan said. “There isn’t much sunlight coming through that part of the palace, so I assume you’ll be taking your masks off.”

  “Absolutely,” I replied. “It gives us no pleasure wearing them, I assure you, Chief Councilor.”

  The four made their way up the stairs, and we followed, while I tried to accept that their way of life, while somewhat troubling, was different from ours. I had to think outside my GASP bubble. This didn’t seem like Neraka. The people weren’t oppressed or mind-controlled. They’d been conquered a very long time ago, and they’d adapted to their circumstances. It wasn’t our place to try and change that. Sure, there were similarities, but each world was unique and different in its own way.

  Besides, our goal wasn’t to police the Aeternae.

  “I know you’re a little worried about the Rimians and Naloreans, but you shouldn’t be,” Esme whispered to me. “They’re both colonized peoples. We can’t change that unless there’s ample military action, and it’s not our duty to interfere, willy-nilly.”

  “Yeah, I get that,” I muttered.

  “None of us like it. But I do think we should take our time studying their world before we draw any kind of conclusion,” Tristan chimed in, keeping his voice down. “Chances are the principates are perfectly okay with their situation, given that the Aeternae are clearly wealthy and can sustain their economies through trade. Only, in their case, blood is the most valuable commodity.”